


Run Boy Run

by Vanamiya



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: AU, Anders finds his way to Tevinter, Awakening Anders - Freeform, M/M, that means Anders without Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 23:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4938943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanamiya/pseuds/Vanamiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Anders manages to flee all the way to Tevinter and Fenris gets the silliest advice he has ever heard in his life.</p><p>"It feels pretty great, being free. You should try it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This World is not meant for you

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm finally actually uploading a Fenders fic to AO3... I'm kinda nervous but I'm also proud of this! The idea for this oneshot came from a really old prompt in the Dragon Age kink meme. It's from 2011 so I don't think that person is still around. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

The mansion was quiet but Fenris knew that a stranger had broken in the moment he felt the faint stir of unfamiliar magic. It felt crisp and fresh, unlike that of most magisters. Like a breath of fresh air in the middle of corruption and blood. Not that it mattered, he had a duty to fulfill. After all, this was what a good slave and bodyguard did.

His feet made next to no sound as he hurried down the hallways in search for the intruder. He had to be quick, the mage had used a spell recently but as soon as the magic residue was gone, he wouldn’t be able to feel it anymore. The question was, why would a mage even come here? Was this an attempt to assassinate Danarius? His master was currently not even at home, so if it was, then it was poorly planned. Besides, no mage he knew would attempt to do this themselves. Danarius’ rivals were way too self-important to lift a finger and too scared of Fenris, with good reason. That could only mean some sort of mage assassin. He would have to be careful.

There was light coming from the kitchen, spilling into the darkness of the house from underneath the closed door. The situation became stranger by the second. Why would the mage assassin hide there of all places, with light no less? It could only mean that they were laying out a trap, they knew Fenris was coming for them. Fenris’ lyrium brands flared to life, emitting a soft glow of their own while he grabbed his sword. He was ready to face whatever was waiting for him behind that door.

As Fenris entered the kitchen, he was ready for about anything, just not this. Indeed, it was a mage. He wore the robes of a common mage, a Leatan. He sat on the floor, surrounded by mage lights and stuffing his face with cheese and dried meat. The mage turned his head and when he spotted him, his eyes widened and he got up.

“I, uh, can explain!”

A foreign accent. So he wasn’t from Tevinter. Fenris didn’t give him time to explain, though. He launched to attack the intruder with a mighty swing of his sword. The mage barely dodged. He had a staff that seemed like it was barely holding together but Fenris could feel him summoning his magic, though he saw neither flames, nor any other indication of what he was doing. When Fenris attempted another jump, he knew what the mage had done. He slipped, sliding on the now greasy floor until he crashed into a table, throwing off pottery while he tried to regain his footing.

“Sorry! Let me explain, please? We don’t have to fight, alright?”

“Spare me your excuses.” Whatever this mage was trying to do, Fenris would not fall for it. Any and all intruders had to die. The mage sighed before readying another spell.

The fight was mostly one-sided, the stranger was evasive like a stray cat, using his spells mostly for defensive purposes while Fenris grew more and more frustrated. In a fit of anger, he flared up brightly, momentarily shocking the mage so much that he forgot to dodge and Fenris could trap him in a corner. He let go of his sword and instead opted to just crush the intruder’s heart. He lifted his hand and was about to reach into the mage’s chest but instead, his hand phased through nothing but solid wall. The mage had ducked at the very last second. At the same time, he had put a petrifying spell on him.

“I gotta say, Tevinter is full of weird stuff but you have to be the strangest thing I’ve seen yet.”

The mage straightened again and seemed to relax, thinking he had trapped Fenris, who still had one hand stuck in the wall. If only he knew. Such a simple petrifying spell had no effect on him. However, he would play along for now. Maybe he could finish the job once the mage had his guard down. For now, he just stared at him. He had not payed much attention to it before but the mage was rather young. In his early to mid-twenties perhaps with features one might describe as ‘handsome’ if he were inclined to do so, which he wasn’t. It didn’t matter what he looked like. He was also tall, even for a human. Fenris glared up at his face, silent and waiting.

“Good, now that you’re not trying to kill me anymore, I can finally explain. I know what this looks like but I was really just hungry and I’ll be gone before anyone gets into trouble. How does that sound?”

Fenris stayed silent, refusing to even grace this ridiculous proposal with an answer.

“…Right. Are you some kind of guard? Do many Tevinter magisters have that? Glowy guards with weird powers? You’re the first one I saw actually.” The mage’s eyes wandered over Fenris who was torn between waiting some more to see where this was going and just burying his hand inside that strange man right now.

“Man, you’re pretty even for elf standards… wait… is that a collar?” Suddenly, his brows furrowed. “Are you a slave?”

“Did it truly take you this long to figure out?”

The mage flinched, seemingly not having expected to actually get an answer. “Sorry.” There was something else that drew his attention. “…you’re injured.”

Fenris’ frown deepened. He had hoped that the intruder wouldn’t notice. There were deep cuts littered all of his skin, only narrowly avoiding his markings. Hadriana had done this to him, waiting until Danarius would come back, discover it and punish Fenris for failing to explain where these injuries had come from. Not that he could tell his master that it had been her doing. He would only be punished worse for lying. Thankfully, Danarius had not returned so far but it was only a matter of time.

The mage’s hands glowed and before Fenris could determine what kind of spell he was using, he felt his wounds close, a cooling and pleasant feeling washing over him. His eyes widened. The stranger was a spirit healer and not only that, he was healing HIM, who had tried to kill him only moments before. Why? Fenris tried to understand but there was no logical explanation for this.

“There, that’s better. By the way, my name is Anders, what’s yours?”

Fenris stayed silent, he was still too stunned by the mage’s – Anders’ – actions. What was this? A trick? And attempt to lure him into false security? Or perhaps… genuine kindness? No one had ever done something for him without ulterior motive or because it was their duty. It was hard to believe that it wasn’t a trap but this Anders… there was something about him that seemed kind and caring. Perhaps Fenris had felt it when the healing magic had touched him. He almost didn’t want to kill him now, even if he knew that it was inevitable.

“Alright, Ser Grumpy-Elf, don’t answer. But you could thank me for patching you up. I like to be paid in kisses.”

The look Fenris gave him must have been hilarious in some way because Anders started laughing when he saw it. It only occurred to Fenris now how close they actually were, the mage occupying the space between Fenris and the wall where his hand was still “stuck” to keep up the image of being unable to move. Anders leaned down, his face coming closer and closer to Fenris’. There, that was the chance he had waited for, as soon as their lips touched, the mage would die. Fenris steadied his breathing, waiting, never taking his eyes off his target. When the space between them had shrunk to a mere breath, Anders stopped and winked at Fenris before whispering.

“I know that you can move.”

Again, Anders narrowly avoided death by ducking, but this time he moved away from the wall, doing a barrel roll and raising a solid wall of ice between him and Fenris, even with the knowledge of what those markings could do.

“Come on, cut me some slack, alright? I healed you! For free! And I really didn’t do more than eating some of the stuff from the kitchen, I promise!”

For some reason Fenris couldn’t truly pinpoint, he hesitated. He had to kill every intruder and usually he would do so without a second thought but… he realized that he didn’t want to. And his master wasn’t here, so maybe, just this once, he could make an exception.

“Also, that’s just a tip from me, you should consider trying to flee. Where I’m from… well, I was a captive as well and now I’m on the run. It feels pretty great, being free. You should try it. No one should be able to keep another person like a pet and treat them like crap, you know? And you’re strong, I’m sure you can do it.”

Anders smiled and waved. “Bye bye, handsome-elf-whose-name-I-still-don’t-know!”

And then he was gone. Fenris didn’t follow him. He waited for the ice to melt so he could clean up the mess he and that mage had caused. If there was one good side about this weird encounter, it would be Hadriana’s face as soon as she saw that all of her work was gone. Anders’ last words still rang in his ears but he ignored them. Freedom was nothing but wishful thinking. It didn’t exist. Not for people like him.

 ----

Fenris ran. He was exhausted, dizzy, bleeding from various places on his body. The slavers had caught up to him while he had been trying to find the quickest way to get out of Tevinter. They had taken him by surprise and while he had managed to kill them, he couldn’t be sure how many more there were and if they were already on his trail again. How many days had it been now since he had run away from his master? How many days since he had killed his very first friends in cold blood? The fog warriors… he would never be able to return to Seheron.

The little town he had stopped in now felt like a death trap. There weren’t many people outside during this hour but they saw him and they stared, none of them would help an escaped slave, they were too worried about their own safety. But they surely would point the slavers into the right direction. He could only hope to outrun them but for that, he needed to get going.

It became increasingly harder to keep his limbs moving and when he turned a corner, entering a completely abandoned small alley, they finally gave out. He didn’t even feel the impact anymore before his world was swallowed in black.

\----

“You know, I really can’t decide if you have the worst luck or the best.”

The first thing Fenris felt as he regained consciousness was magic. It was gentle, enveloping him, caressing and cooling. It felt somewhat familiar, crisp and clear, like a breath of fresh air. He opened his eyes and was met with a face that seemed just as familiar as the magic that turned out to be a healing spell. Wait, healing…?

“Oh, you’re awake! Remember me?”

Fenris flinched and tried to get away just to be met with searing pain. He hadn’t even realized before how much every part of his body hurt, being too preoccupied with surviving and getting away. Now that he found himself in a dark little chamber on a straw mat and with a stranger he barely remembered kneeling next to him, everything felt so much more severe.

“Shh, you’re not completely healed yet, settle down, alright?” He reached out to touch Fenris who was doing his best to at least squirm away.

“Don’t touch me!”

For a moment, there was silence. The two men simply stared at each other until the mage sighed. “Alright, but at least let me finish healing you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m incredibly charming and selfless and also because you were a bloody mess when I found you lying on the street like a wet sack of potatoes.”

Fenris frowned. “But why are you helping me?”

The mage seemed surprised for a moment. “What, don’t you remember me? I definitely remember you! Andraste’s knickers, I doubt someone even could forget you!”

Right, this man seemed familiar but until now, Fenris had not bothered to wonder from where he knew him. It didn’t take him long to remember.

“You’re that… thief I caught a few months ago. You said your name was… Anders.”

A smile spread on Anders’ face. “See, it seems like you couldn’t forget about my charms and incredibly good looks, either!”

Fenris didn’t give him an answer but he didn’t protest, either when Anders continued healing him. Once he was finished, Fenris finally spoke up again. “Fenris.”

“…what?”

“My name. It’s Fenris.”

“Oh! I mean, if you hadn’t wanted to tell me then I would just have given you a nickname like “Ser Handsome-Elf” but I guess Fenris works, too.” Anders laughed at his own joke and it was annoying. Definitely very annoying. Anders was that kind of person his master would have ordered him to intimidate twice as much just so he would lose that insolent attitude.

“So Fenris, you listened to my advice and ran away, I take it?”

Advice…? Ah, he remembered Anders’ words right before he had fled. Back then, Fenris had not even been able to fantasize about being free. And now he was, perhaps. He wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel like he was free, even if the collar was gone now. The memory of killing the fog warriors tightened around his neck like a collar never could. He didn’t react to anything anymore until he noticed a hand floating just above his arm and flinched away from it.

“Can I… touch you?” Anders suddenly sounded hesitant.

“Why?”

There was a nervous chuckle, then a cough. Anders pulled his hand away again and scratched the back of his head. “Because it looks like something horrible happened to you recently and I… kinda feel bad that I can’t do more for you? Hey, don’t look at me like that! I’m not offering this to just any cute elf I see!”

Fenris started to wonder how this man had even survived in Tevinter for so long. He averted his gaze, remembering what the fog warriors had taught him about admitting when he didn’t like something. That was what a free person did. That was what he would do now. “I don’t like being touched.”

“Oh. Well then… how about a heat spell? Or something?”

“I like magic even less.”

Anders seemed frustrated, desperately trying to find something that would comfort Fenris but there was nothing he could do. In the end, he gave up. “Alright. Then wait here. I will get you some water and maybe some food. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” He stood up, ready to leave.

“…Anders?”

Anders stopped. “Yes?”

“You shouldn’t… do this for me. Being kind to me… could get you killed.” Just like he had killed the fog warriors. It would be better if he stayed on his own. He couldn’t even look at Anders right now.

“Aww, I survived worse! I’m good at outrunning death. And I couldn’t very well let you die in the streets. I mean, you let me live back then, so I wanted to… help you, too.”

And then Anders walked through the door and was gone, leaving Fenris to his own thoughts.

\----

Fenris waited but he didn’t move. He still felt weak and somewhat sluggish. Dizzy, even. He had time to look at the room he was in but there wasn’t much to see. It was nothing but a little chamber, perhaps it had once been a storeroom. In one corner there was a pack that most likely belonged to Anders and his sword was propped against another corner. He was lying on a straw mat with a blanket made of scratchy gray wool draped over him. Did Anders live here? Even Danarius’ slaves had more than this.

It took a while but eventually, Anders returned with a jug filled with water and piece of bread. “It’s not much but it’s all I could get right now. Please try to drink at least, you lost quite a bit of blood.”

Fenris was quiet, just staring at Anders for a while who was holding out the water jug and patiently waiting for it to be taken. Finally, he opened his mouth. “You… are a mage.”

“What, me? Nooo, what are you thinking? I’m actually just five nugs in disguise. We got quite good at fooling people into thinking that we’re a mage.”

“Joke all you like but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a mage from a foreign country. You came to Tevinter to make yourself a magister, did you not?” Not that it seemed like it had turned out well for Anders, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was intention. Fenris would not trust someone like this. It had taken him enough strength and courage to flee in the first place. If this mage planned on using him or selling him back to elevate his current status in this country, Fenris would kill him.

Anders frowned. He placed both water and bread next to the straw mat. “I came here to flee from the persecution mages face in the rest of Thedas. I used to live in the circle in Ferelden. You know what a circle of magi is? It’s where they lock us up to be at the mercy of the Templars. Tevinter, a country where mages are free, seemed like a utopia in comparison.” He sighed, staring off at the far wall as if he was reminiscing. “But it’s not. I’ve been here long enough to know that now. I mean, slavery? Really? Not to mention blood mages. They’re not exactly a good example to bring before the Divine. ‘Hey, you know, freeing all mages is a good idea, look how well it works in Tevinter where slavery is legal and there’s blood magic at every corner!’ Oh, THAT will surely get us better conditions for mages in other countries!”

“It’s because mages shouldn’t be allowed to do as they please in the first place.”

“It’s not about being able to do as we please, it’s about being allowed to exist without being locked up like cattle and abused by Templars! You were a slave until recently, YOU should know what that feels like!”

Fenris started to glow, even if it brought him pain in his current weak state. His sudden anger gave him momentum, making him able to sit up and grab Anders by the collar. “You know NOTHING about being a slave.” He snarled. Anders would regret those words. He would-

“Whoah there! Careful!”

Fenris’ forehead met something. He was dizzy. He felt so incredibly weak, it was unbearable. All of his former intentions were momentarily forgotten. He was faintly aware of being laid down onto the mat again before something cool touched his forehead.

“Maker, you’re burning up! I thought I’d healed you… this isn’t good. H-hey… Fenris? Are you there, can you answer me?”

That voice, it sounded so worried. Fenris felt like he was swimming in it, soaking up that caring tone. When the cool touch left, he lifted a hand to get it back but he could barely keep it in the air for a few seconds. He just wanted to sleep.

\----

Fenris was vaguely aware that he was drifting in and out of sleep a few times. Anders was always there, making Fenris drink, enveloping Fenris in healing magic, apologizing when he touched Fenris because he had no other choice. When Fenris drifted back into darkness, his dreams were hazy. They swirled in his head like the Fade itself. He saw Danarius. He saw the fog warriors. He saw Hadriana and her shocked face when she noticed that all of his wounds had miraculously closed. And finally, he saw Anders, sitting in the kitchen eating cheese. There was an echo in his head, Anders’ words, sounding distant, telling him to flee.

“No one should be able to keep another person like a pet and treat them like crap, you know? And you’re strong, I’m sure you can do it.”

His feet were soaked in blood, as were his hands. The blood of his friends. The blood of those he had learned to trust and who had trusted him. His master waited for him. It was time to end this dream of freedom and to return to the life that was all he had ever known. He stared at his hands. Of all the people he had killed in his life, none of them had brought him this much guilt. It was crushing. But he remembered. Distant words from a thief that he had not killed. Danarius had abused him for too long. He didn’t want this anymore. He couldn’t… but he was strong. And so, he ran.

Fenris awoke with a start, sitting up and clutching his head in his hands. His breaths were shaky. He had forgotten but he remembered now, that single moment in which he had decided to run. In a way, it had been Anders’ words that had made him do it. Anders, the one he had not killed. How lucky he was. And he didn’t even know.

Once Fenris had managed to calm himself, he looked around to find that Anders wasn’t there. Despite the dream, he felt much better than he had in a while. He was even able to stand up, which he did, grabbing his sword before leaving the room. The door led into that alley where he had passed out. So that was why Anders had found him?

“Fenris?” A familiar voice made Fenris turn his head to find Anders standing not far away, holding a freshly filled jug of water. “Do you feel better? You shouldn’t move around so much, especially not so soon.”

Fenris didn’t answer, he did however approach Anders who was becoming more and more confused. When Fenris grabbed Anders’ collar and pulled him down, his eyes widened.

“Hey, what’s your problem? I didn’t do anyth-hmpf!”

Anders almost would have let go of his jug, catching it again at the last second. Fenris was kissing him! He had simply pulled him down before crashing their lips together. But what had started as nothing but a hard press soon turned more heated as Anders melted into it and in turn coaxed Fenris to become more responsive as well. The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as he wanted it to however because Fenris pulled away to whisper against his lips.

“You like to be payed in kisses, as I recall.”

Anders didn’t even have time to answer because that was when Fenris pulled away completely, turned around and ran. He didn’t look back even once, not even when Anders called after him.

Anders stared after the fleeing elf for a while, even when he was already out of sight. Finally, he let out a nervous laugh.

“Ha ha… I’m smitten. By a simple kiss. What am I, a teenager?”

Not to mention that Fenris was gone now and he had missed the chance to run after him. Then again, fate had brought them together twice. Three time’s a charm, right? He certainly hoped so.


	2. They're trying to catch you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story actually got more comments than I would ever have thought! Thank you all so much for the support and your kind words! And so, I finally managed to write the second chapter. It is now planned to have three parts and I want to post all of them in one fic, even if the second part is A LOT longer than the first. I was surprised myself, believe me! I hope you all will enjoy this part as well!

Anders tripped, crashing into the hard body in front of him. He was pushed back, losing his balance and falling flat on his butt. He yelped, the noise muffled by the gag in his mouth. It hurt but the pain could barely distract from how dizzy he felt.

The body he had crashed into crouched in front of him, the telltale sword on his armor unmistakably identifying him as Templar. He removed his helmet to reveal a face that seemed like it had sneered too often and was now stuck that way. Had Anders been able to talk, he would have told him to put the helmet back on, he looked better with it.

“Guys, I think our mage doesn’t want to walk anymore. Should we remind him that he has no choice in the matter?”

Liar. That nuglicker had pushed him on purpose, Anders was sure of it. That they had given him far more magebane than would have been necessary to subdue him wasn’t helping, either. It was a miracle he had even been able to walk this far without his legs giving in. If only he had known that there were Templars in this area… but really, they were in the middle of nowhere here! Days away from even the smallest village. And they had caught him just as he had been setting up a camp, lighting a fire with magic. Five armored Templars against one tired apostate. The fight was decided before it had even started and now they had put him chains. Dragging him to the nearest circle, he suspected.

“Actually, I think letting him live is too much of a hassle, don’t you agree?” Andraste’s burning crotch, that Templar looked even uglier when he was smiling. Anders did his best to look just as disgusted as he felt, despite the cold dread that crawled up his spine. They wouldn’t… would they?

“Kevin, we already discussed this. We will get him to the next circle. Now help him up.” The voice came from one of the other Templars who still wore their helmets. It sounded female.

“Oh, come on! This path is abandoned, there are no witnesses. What’s one mage more or less? Those bastards practically grow on trees!” Kevin’s grin stretched even further. “We can even have fun with him before we kill him.”

“You’re disgusting.” The female Templar sounded appalled but she did nothing when Kevin drew his sword while the others simply stayed silent.

Anders’ eyes widened and he scrambled backwards as if that could somehow save him. No. No no no. He didn’t want to die. He felt like he was going to throw up at any second. The effect of the magebane combined with the overwhelming fear he felt made his head spin. In a movement too fast for him to process, the Templar had stood up to drive his sword down into his left thigh.

Anders screamed. The pain was blinding, it made his eyes water and his breath catch in his throat but he screamed and flailed, to no avail. The sword had gone through his leg and into the scarcely overgrown dirt road beneath him, where it was firmly stuck now. The Templar laughed and he was reminded of the circle. Of the punishments and abuse he had seen daily or endured himself. And Templars, laughing. If only this Templar would give him a quick death so he didn’t have to hear it anymore. So he didn’t have to remember anymore. Killed by a Templar, he had known all along that it would happen one day.

The laughter did stop then. And he still wasn’t dead. If only he had his magic, he would be able to heal himself but like this he could only wait for the final blow. It was hard to focus on anything but the sharp pain in his thigh but as he glanced up, he noticed that Kevin’s face had sobered up as he stared at something to his right. The female Templar was talking but he could barely make out the words.

“…See, I told you not to do this! How will you deal with…”

Anders forced himself to look into the same direction as Kevin and he barely had time to be shocked, couldn’t even believe what he saw, until a flash of bright light ran towards the Templars.

They drew their swords. “Who is that? Is he a mage?” One of them shouted. He activated a holy smite, Anders could feel it, even from his position and in his weakened state. Another wave of nausea hit him but the forced the bile back down as best as could, too transfixed by what was going on in front of him.

Fenris – yes, yes it was definitely Fenris! – didn’t even slow down as the smite hit him. He released a flash of his own, bright and powerful and feeling vaguely like the fade. Anders remembered it from that time they had fought in the kitchen. Now it seemed to disorient the Templar and Fenris used the opening to swing his giant sword, knocking two Templars off their feet at the same time. He killed the first by driving his sword into his chest, through the armor. The Templar couldn’t even scream, he just made a wet gurgling noise before he grew limp.

The second Templar lost an arm, blood spraying onto the road beneath them, soaking the dirt in dark red liquid. Not much later, he also lost his head.

“Die, you monster!” Anders saw the third Templar come at Fenris from behind and he wanted to warn the elf but the gag prevented him from making actual words. Fenris had anticipated that attack however, activating his brands so that the blade ran through him without hurting him. He looked like a ghost. The Templar screamed and tried to flee but as he turned around, he suddenly found himself without legs. Fenris gave him a merciful killing blow to spare him bleeding out on the ground.

The only ones who hadn’t attacked were Kevin and that female Templar. Kevin smiled weakly, glancing briefly at his sword that was now stuck. He seemed to know there was no way he could pull it out in time. “H-hey. No need to get all violent. Do you want money? I’ll give you all we have, just let me live.” A bit late for a peace offering. Fenris didn’t answer. He still glowed like a wisp, a particularly murderous wisp, and approached the Templar slowly.

“Don’t underestimate me! I’m not like those weak guys you just slaughtered! I will-“ Fenris let his sword fall to the ground and before Kevin could even express his surprise, a hand reached into his chest. He wheezed and Anders could literally watch as the life left his eyes. Fenris jerked his hand back, ripping out the Templar’s heart while his dead body hit the ground with a heavy thump.

The last Templar had not stuck around to wait until it was her turn, she ran and Fenris stared after her, seemingly contemplating if it was worth it to pursue her. She had lost her helmet and her dark brown curls bounced as she fled.

Anders meanwhile stared in silent awe at the picture in front of him. Fenris still gave off a slight glow as he held the bloody heart in one hand. He was surrounded by dead Templars whose blood pooled around his feet. It was an image that seemed just as beautiful as it was terrifying. Anders knew that if Fenris had not held back during their fight in Tevinter, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

Finally, Fenris let the heart drop to the floor and rushed towards Anders, kneeling down next to him, removing the gag first.

“Mage, are you alright?”

“I…” Anders croaked, his mouth feeling uncomfortable after having been gagged for so long. “I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life.”

The look Fenris was giving him was hilarious, as if someone had just thrown a toad at his face. “You… what?”

“If there was no sword stuck in my leg, I’d beg you to take me right now. Just fuck me until I can’t walk.” Speaking of the sword and not being able to walk, there was that, too. Anders’ gaze drifted towards it, as did Fenris’.

“I will have to pull it out. Can you heal yourself?”

Anders shook his head shakily. “Not right now. Magebane.” He explained when Fenris frowned at him. This would make things more complicated, Anders knew it, too.

“I need to remove it regardless.” Fenris stood up. “Prepare yourself.”

Anders already knew that it was going to hurt, reaching for a stick – something to bite onto - but when Fenris activated his tattoos again, reaching for the sword and pulling, Anders still wasn’t prepared. The pain overwhelmed him for an agonizing moment, combined with a rush that suspiciously reminded him of the fade again. Then, the world became dark.

\----

When Anders awoke, he felt movement beneath him. There was a headache, too. And pain in his left leg. He frowned, a small pained sound escaping his lips before he opened his eyes, trying to orient himself.

He was not on the floor anymore. Instead, someone carried him, someone who seemed like they had no problem with lifting his weight for a long time. The realization made Anders flail in the strangers grip, trying to escape. They wouldn’t get him, not while he was still alive-!

“Mage. Mage! Calm down or I will let you fall.”

Anders recognized that voice. Finally, he actually looked up and once he saw who was currently holding him like a bride, he was speechless. Now he remembered. The Templars. His leg. Fenris. Fenris had saved him.

After a long moment during which Anders could do nothing but stare at his savior, he finally took in his surroundings. They were still on the dirt road but there was no sign of the fight or the corpses anywhere. Fenris had stopped moving but it was clear that he had walked until Anders had started struggling.

“You… carried me all this way?”

“We couldn’t stay near the bodies. “

He probably had a point. If more Templars had shown up, seeing them amidst the carnage, it could have ended badly. Though Anders doubted that ten or even twenty Templars could as much as lay a finger on this walking force of destruction. He felt just a little breathless remembering the fight.

“Can you heal yourself now?”

That was a good question. Anders looked at his leg. It was patched up but there was blood seeping through the bandages. Not a good sign and Anders slightly grimaced. He would need a big healing spell for this. He reached for his mana and really, the effect of the magebane had mostly worn off but he didn’t have enough energy yet to heal all of it. “I can stop the bleeding I think but I’m low on mana.” Anders sighed.

Fenris stared at him for a few moments in silence. His mouth was set in a thin line and he frowned. It was as if he was contemplating something. Even if Anders had things he wanted to say and questions he wanted to ask, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt Fenris’ thoughts.

Suddenly, Fenris started walking again and his tattoos began to glow. Anders gasped. He felt as if someone was pouring lyrium potions over him. A cool sensation that felt heady and light but also intense like energy in its rawest form. One would have to bathe him in potions to recreate an effect like this. Destipe himself, he started squirming in Fenris’ grip again but this time because the pain was replaced by… something that felt completely different. Anders shuddered. He wished he had words for it.

“Fenris… those tattoos…” He should have known. From the moment he had first seen them, he had suspected that they were some kind of magic, even if Fenris himself wasn’t a mage. But that was no mere magic. That lingering feeling that reminded him of dreaming, walking the fade and the way the tattoos lit up like a holy smite, not to mention the fact that he felt his mana return… it became painfully obvious what exactly was pulsing beneath Fenris’ skin. “They’re lyrium.” He sounded breathless.

Fenris didn’t look at him, instead he stoically stared ahead. “Heal yourself.” He demanded.

Fine, the grump didn’t want to talk about it. Did that even surprise anyone at this point? Anders wanted to get down from those strong and capable arms, anyway. Away from the alluring tattoos and mysterious green eyes and that finely crafted profile and… seriously, if Fenris didn’t stop glowing at him like this while being unintentionally sexy, he was going to pop a boner, he just knew it.

A strong healing spell and a few wobbly seconds later and he was finally on his own feet again. Fenris handed him his pack – he had even taken that with him – and Anders immediately checked to see if his pillow was still there. He didn’t own many things, next to nothing if he was perfectly honest, but his pillow… it was an exception. It was important to him. When he saw that it was still there, he released a breath that he hadn’t known he was holding. Fenris was already walking again and he had to jog for a bit to catch up to him.

“So… how did you find me?”

“Coincidence. I happened to travel along this path as well.”

Anders raised an eyebrow. They weren’t even in Tevinter anymore. They were… somewhere in the Free Marches. Meeting again like this seemed impossible. But there were other questions and he suspected that Fenris would only let him ask so many until he was annoyed.

“Why did you rescue me? You hate mages.” At least that had been the impression Anders had gotten during their last encounter. Then again, he hadn’t forgotten the kiss, either. Maybe he was an exception?

“If you keep asking me useless questions, I will be tempted to overthink my decision.” Fenris shot a glare into his direction before stubbornly staring ahead again. Anders didn’t understand what his problem was. He sighed and decided to give up for now.

“I bet you’re always lots of fun at parties.” Still, it was an improvement from last time. At least now, Fenris didn’t just run away again.

They walked in silence for some time which gave Anders enough opportunity to contemplate the current situation as well as the elf next to him. Whenever he could, he stole glances at Fenris, as if he was afraid that Fenris would sprint away once he saw his chance. Perhaps he truly was afraid. It was a possibility, wasn’t it? But this wasn’t the only reason why he couldn’t keep his eyes on the road ahead. He had to admit that it was perhaps not the healthiest thought to have but Fenris fascinated him. He was an elf, not only short but also slim - unlike dwarves that were half his height but Sturdy like walking tree stumps – and yet he swung a sword as tall as him and carried Anders who knew for how long without even breaking a sweat. Fenris could probably bench-press ten Templars in full armor.

Alright, maybe that was exaggerating a little bit. Still, that thought was damn hot. And Fenris seemed like the kind of person who was prickly at first but was incredibly passionate beneath all that spikiness and grumpiness. If that time he had kissed Anders was anything to go by, it was not entirely impossible to crack him. And that didn’t even mention yet what a gorgeous specimen of an elf Fenris was. Anders had seen quite a few good looking elves already, they seemed to have fairness in their genes, but not even they could compare to the one cautiously walking next to him.

Anders remembered it again. That moment when Fenris had stood over the dead Templars, clutching a bloody heart in his hand. “You know,” he suddenly started babbling, unable to keep quiet any longer. “I always fantasized about getting rescued whenever the Templars caught me. But I never imagined that my savior would be you of all people.”

“I’m surprised you left the imperium. Becoming a magister must not have turned out as easy as you thought it would be, I suspect.”

Anders’ eyelid twitched. As undeniably attractive as Fenris was, he was also a bit of an accusing bastard who always expected the worst. What a comforting thought that he wouldn’t be hearing any of this when the elf’s mouth was preoccupied with other things.

“Actually, I’m on my way back to Ferelden. I hear they had a Blight recently and that Kinloch Hold was overrun by blood mages and Abominations. I was hoping that during the time of reconstruction, I could hopefully get a hold of my phylactery. I’m not going back to Tevinter. I got sunburns quicker than I could heal.”

“Perhaps a slave could have held a parasol over you to protect your delicate, pasty face then.”

“Are you volunteering to be that slave?”

Fenris stopped dead in his movements, somehow managing to stare down on Anders despite being shorter. For a few tense seconds, Anders was not so sure anymore if he hadn’t overstepped a line and if he would not die at the hands of a Templar but find himself without a vital organ any moment now. He tried a placating smile. “I mean, I’m so thankful you came to save me. Pleasedon’tkillme.”

“You will do well to overthink your words twice before throwing them at me, mage.”

Phew, that was close. Anders suddenly felt like he had aged a few years just from fear. More silence followed and as much as Anders would have enjoyed just fantasizing about kissing that scowl off of Fenris’ face, he also realized that he hadn’t properly thanked him yet. That seemed like a difficult task however and he wasn’t even sure why that was. Sure, he could throw bad pick-up lines at Fenris or talk about something insignificant but the thought of showing sincere feelings openly was still a bit frightening, even if there were no Templars here.

Anders swallowed, unable to even look into Fenris’ general direction and spoke up reluctantly. “I mean it, though. I’m… thankful. I’m not really used to someone caring.” There had been someone who had cared but he didn’t want to think about him, it would only hurt. Aside from him, he had always been on his own in the circle. And even when he had been on the run and in Tevinter, he had always helped himself. He definitely was annoyed at Fenris’ attitude but there was also something fluttering in his chest that he didn’t want to inspect closer. He barely even knew this man. It was probably just hero worship because Fenris had brutally killed those Templars without any mercy. Maybe if he managed to seduce him, he could get this out of his system before it became anything dangerous?

Suddenly, Anders turned his head and grinned at Fenris. “If you happen to want payment, I wouldn’t mind if we did what I suggested before fainting.”

That didn’t seem to sound very appealing to Fenris who scrunched up his face in disgust and made a noise to match. “You can pay me by being quiet.”

\----

Fenris, it turned out, could unexpectedly become quite talkative if provoked. Methods of provocation included but were not limited to disagreeing with him on something, making a comment on something Fenris seemed to have a strong opinion on and generally annoying him until a certain point. Sometimes he would also answer questions. Sometimes. Anders was still trying to get the hang of what to ask him and when to keep quiet.

As per unspoken arrangement, they had started traveling together. Anders would never admit that out loud but he was thankful for this because after that unbidden encounter with those Templars, he felt just a little less safe on his own. Having stayed in Tevinter for so long had made him careless.

They were on the third day of their journey, having passed an ever changing scenery of fields, grassy hills and earlier that day, they had reached another forest. It was getting dark and while Fenris was feeding their small campfire, Anders studied his map. For now, their destination was the nearest town and it seemed like it wouldn’t be long now until they reached it. “Maybe one or two more days in that direction.” Anders mumbled while drawing a line with his finger. He sighed then, looking up at the flames that seemed to happily lick at the dry wood. “I’m hungry. There was a stream nearby wasn’t there? Maybe we could get some fish.”

Fenris made a noise that sounded like a mix between retching and gurgling. Anders threw up his hands in an overly dramatic manner. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize his majesty is a picky eater!”

For a few seconds Fenris just stared at him with an unreadable expression – but really, when did Fenris ever have an expression he COULD read? That guy was a walking mystery – before standing up and leaving. Anders stared after him. Had he truly insulted Fenris this much? The elf wouldn’t just vanish now and not come back, leaving him alone to get picked up by the next group of Templars, would he? Fenris had not taken his sword with him, so he probably was just off to sulk somewhere else, right?

Anders managed to force himself to stay where he was for exactly 3 minutes before standing abruptly to follow the elf to wherever he had vanished. Unlike Fenris, his feet made a terrible ruckus while trying to fight his way through the undergrowth. The snapping of twigs and the squelch of his boots on a damp floor made Anders wince. As much as he liked to make fun of Fenris for going barefoot, he couldn’t deny that it had its merits, probably. He still remembered Fenris’ answer to his suggestion to start wearing shoes. “I don’t see the appeal in strapping uncomfortable dead weight to my feet just to let them bathe in their own sweat.” Anders sighed. As difficult as it was to get along with Fenris, he didn’t want to be left alone. The memory of Templars appearing out of nowhere in the darkness - overpowering him, throwing away his staff and subduing him - kept him going.

It didn’t take him long to reach the stream he had mentioned earlier and there, he also found Fenris. The elf was standing in the middle of it with water reaching up to his knees. Only looking at it made Anders start shivering. Maker, Fenris hadn’t even taken off his leggings! They would be completely soaked once he got out again. What was he even doing there?

Anders didn’t move, watching Fenris from behind a tree, though considering how much noise he had made and how sensitive elf ears were, he doubted that Fenris hadn’t noticed him yet. Even so, the elf did not even look into his direction. He stared at the water for a while. One of his hands started glowing and he plunged into the current. Not much later, he pulled it out again, holding a wriggling fish in his unrelenting grip.

This was the moment when Anders finally came closer, only stopping when he was right in front of the stream. “Fenris? What are you doing?”

“I’m baking cookies.” Fenris sounded completely serious, as if there was no doubt that yes, he was currently baking cookies and not catching fish with his bare, even if very glowy, hands. Anders couldn’t help but giggle at that, his initial annoyance and confusion be damned.

“I wish I could say that’s the wriggliest cookie I ever saw in my life but a few apprentices once thought it was a good idea to enchant the oven. The Templars and the first Enchanter weren’t amused and it took all day until we caught all the cookies that had grown legs and were scurrying away like mice.” Anders laughed. It was one of the fonder memories he had and there weren’t many of those. From then on, apprentices hadn’t been allowed to use the oven without Templar supervision. A shame.

The next moment, the fish was flying at him. He reached out his hands to catch it out of reflex. For a moment his fingers grazed the cold and wet surface before the fish flapped, a last attempt to regain freedom. It landed back in the stream with a splash. Fenris didn’t open his mouth but his eyes told Anders that he should have caught that and that Fenris was evaluating his incompetence right now. Hey, Fenris couldn’t possible expect him to just catch that thing without a warning, right? After a moment, the elf went back to looking at the water and readying his ghost hand.

“Did you change your mind about eating fish?”

“No.” Fenris didn’t even look up.

“So… you’re catching them because…?”

“You wanted them.” He plunged his hand back into the water just to pull out another wriggling fish.

Anders scoffed. Fenris couldn’t actually be standing in a stream right now, freezing his feet off most likely, just to catch Anders’ dinner. Right? Not to mention that he didn’t have to do any such thing for him. “Showoff. I can catch my own fish, you know.”  
He might not have his staff with him right now, but there was always one weapon he carried with him… Anders kneeled as close to the stream as he could without falling into it. There were indeed a few fish swimming lazily beneath the surface. It wouldn’t take much to catch one. A small sprit bolt was all he needed. He pointed his finger at one fish, squinting his eye in concentration. Hitting humans with fireballs was one thing but the fish was small and he only had one chance. A small bolt left his finger, nothing more than a zap, shooting straight into the water and hitting the fish on the very first try.

“Ha!” Anders exclaimed triumphantly. There, Fenris might have been a lot stronger than he was but that didn’t mean that Anders couldn’t take care of himself! Just that Fenris was giving him a rather unimpressed look and when Anders finally realized why, it was already too late.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, trying to reach into the water and grab the fish that was already long gone. In his wild motions however, he hadn’t counted on the muddy ground he was kneeling on not being the most secure. He slid, and before he could even attempt to grab onto something, he was greeted by cold stream water.

Anders struggled. Luckily, the water was shallow and after some flailing he managed to pull his head out, taking deep gulp of air and coughing in-between. It felt like little icy needles were attacking him from everywhere and he shivered as he sat in the current, eyes wandering to that useless elf that had not even moved a finger.

“It seems, rather than catching the fish, you decided to join them.” If Anders hadn’t known better, he would have said that Fenris actually sounded amused right now. Andraste’s perky tits, even the moons and the stars were playing tricks on him because it looked like Fenris had the tiniest smug smile on his face. He started wading, coming closer and Anders waited. He didn’t move until he could be certain that Fenris was close enough and then waited for him to speak again.

“So-“ Fenris didn’t get to finish that sentence. Anders attacked, grabbed him by the Arm and pulled. Fenris was stronger, Anders knew that, but he had the element of surprise. This was his only chance and really, Fenris made a surprised noise before toppling over, falling onto him. Anders had to admit, he definitely hadn’t thought this through, just like everything he had done up until this point, really, but the reward… it was worth it.

The temperature of the water, the annoyance and even the fish, it was all forgotten. Anders was hungry but a beautiful elf with glowing eyes and glowing skin, softly illuminated by moonlight and close enough to taste seemed like the most appealing meal right now. And Fenris didn’t move away. He just stared as if he was marveling at Anders in a similar fashion. He could only hope beyond hope that he had somehow charmed the elf enough by now. He shivered but not from the cold. Those eyes were piercing. He always felt exposed when Fenris gave him such an intense stare, not even being naked in front of the entire Templar order could compare to it.

They were close but there was still space between them, a breath or two. Anders leaned closer, slowly, carefully, as if he himself was unsure if this was a good idea. Maybe it wasn’t. But his ideas had never been good as much as a spur of the moment, a pursue of his own desires, an expression of the freedom he wanted to have. They weren’t good ideas but they didn’t always have to be.  
Fenris averted his eyes and the moment was broken. He got off Anders and stood up, seemingly nervous about something. “We should… not stay in here so long. It’s cold.” Ha, as if that even affected that damn guy, Anders was the one shivering here, so much that it took him a moment to realize how quickly his heart was beating. He swallowed and finally got up as well. Water ran down his body in small rivers and he didn’t want to think of how disappointed he felt. The cold wouldn’t have bothered him if only… it was stupid. He could deal with rejection. He had gotten rejected before. You could be the ripest and juiciest peach in Thedas, some people just didn’t like peaches. There were plenty of others who did. So why?

Perhaps this was more than just a bad idea. All of this. But it wasn’t like Anders had much of a choice. It was this or being at risk to get caught by Templars again. He sighed. Well, the least he could do now was warm up with a heat spell and hope that they would dry soon. And they still didn’t have any food.

\----

The village of Middlevale lay snuggly in a small valley between soft hills on one side and the Vimmark Mountains on the other side, looming over the village like disapproving parents. The people seemed civil, even if a little suspicious, and the village was just big enough to have one tavern. All in all, a place that was about as exciting as an ingrown toenail.

Anders stared at the sign hanging above the entrance of the tavern. “The fallen climber? Charming. Bet there’s a nice story to go with that name.” Not that he wanted to hear it. Looking at those mountains, he could only guess what a climber that fell down from this height would look like in the end. Hopefully they didn’t put the remains in the soup.

Fenris gave the sign a long stare, as if he wanted to burn a hole into the wood with his eyes – after everything that had happened, Anders wouldn’t even put it past him to succeed – before following Anders into the establishment. It seemed homely, different than what he had seen in cities like Denerim or Minrathous, where the floor was drenched in alcohol, blood and in some cases ambient leftover magic. Here, it was warm wood and intricate carvings. The fragrance of mountain flowers almost managed to mask the less appetizing smells that lingered in the room. At least it still stank like a tavern, beneath the flowers.

Anders used his charm on the barmaid to get a room. He was told that it was the last available one and seeing how this tavern wasn’t exactly big, he believed it. Of course he noticed that almost all of the tavern’s patrons were staring at them. They all seemed like they were locals, using up what little money they had to get wasted every night, a small comfort in their otherwise boring lives. Anders couldn’t really understand such a thing. They were free and yet this was what they did, even if they didn’t like this life, the let it enslave them. How resigned did someone have to be to accept such a fate? They were free weren’t they? Then again, those people didn’t actually look like they were very bright. Anders almost would have pitied them if he didn’t also feel a pang of envy. These people were, all things considered, still freer than he had ever been in the circle.

He tore himself away from his own musings, accepting the key to the room that they would be using for one or maybe two nights. Staying longer than that was unwise, for both of them. He wanted to keep away from anything that even resembled a Templar and Fenris had told him that he was still running from his former master’s slave hunters. The followed the barmaid through a corridor leading away from the tavern’s main room. I was somewhat cramped here with old wooden crates obscuring the way but they managed to somehow maneuver their way to their temporary home. The room itself was almost barren, if not for a heavy looking chest that rested against one wall. There was a small window that let in just enough light so you wouldn’t trip over your own feet and there were two beds, each occupying one side of the room. A shame, really. Nothing brought people together quite like being forced to sleep in the same bed.

As soon as the woman left them to their own devices, Anders flopped down on the bed that he had as of now claimed for himself and let out a heavy sigh. “How long has it been since I slept in an actual bed? Too long.” He looked up at Fenris who still stood there like a grumpy elf statue. Anders couldn’t help but grin slightly. “Something wrong? I mean, if you get cold at night, you’re always welcome to come into my bed instead.”

Anders could practically see how something inside Fenris snapped. He was not prepared for it. Suddenly he found himself pulled up by his collar. Fenris was so incredibly quick when he wanted to be. Anders’ hands wandered to the elf’s armored ones that had lifted him just slightly from the bed, an uncomfortable limbo that left him gasping and staring at Fenris in shock.

“What kind of game are you playing, mage?!” Fenris snarled and narrowed his eyes. They looked like they were trying burn their way into Anders’ very core as he gasped and stared in shock. He almost wanted to use magic to defend himself, it was pushing against his fingertips impatiently. Not yet. He wanted to know what had suddenly gotten into Fenris first.

“Everything you did until now. Every flirty word and every look you shot my way and every suggestion and the way you react when I’m close. Are you trying to play me? Mock me perhaps” Fenris let go and Anders’ butt landed on the bed again. It creaked dangerously, not made for rough treatment. Fenris still stared down at Anders as if he wanted to bury his hand in Anders’ chest. But there was also something else, somewhere beneath the surface of anger. Anders swallowed. What should he do? What was Fenris even talking about? Did he think he was not being serious in his advances? He was! As serious as chasing after the pleasures of flesh could be. Perhaps someone like Fenris needed something a bit more straight forward.

“Yes, I did all of that. But not to mock you. I want you. Have you even ever looked at yourself? You’re gorgeous!” Anders’ voice was breathy as he looked up at Fenris. It sounded almost like a prayer and he let out a small and nervous chuckle. Really, he could have had anyone else. He already had quite his share. But Fenris was the one he couldn’t charm. Fenris was the one who kept unkowingly teasing him and impressing him and he was so smitten and needy, it disgusted even Anders himself. For Fenris was unattainable it seemed. He should just give up, shouldn’t he?

“You know if I’m really angering you so much with my flirting, I will stop!”

“I hate being touched.”

Fenris’ voice was so cold. Anders started trembling. Had he gone too far? Would he now end up like those Templars? With his heart ripped out of his chest? “I remember! There was something. I guess that’s a problem then, isn’t it?” More nervous laughter. He had to stop that and do something! He did not want to die just yet!

Fenris moved again and Anders… didn’t die. Or perhaps he did die of shock when he found himself pressed to the mattress beneath a particularly delicious elf as said delicious elf kissed him. It reminded of the first time they had done this, forward and passionate, maybe a little hard and aggressive. Still, Anders couldn’t stop the moan bubbling from his throat. He had wanted to feel this again so badly. Sadly, the kiss didn’t last long and Anders was too curious not to ask.

“What… why?”

“I don’t like being touched, so I will touch you instead.”

Fenris’ voice had taken a completely different quality now. It was always nice to listen to but now it sounded heated, eager even. Anders wanted that voice to whisper directly into his ear. He was sure he would be able to come in his robes that way. He himself sounded breathless and completely taken by surprise. “Oh… that works! So… how…?”

Fenris moved away and stood up again, staring down at Anders expectantly. Well, if Fenris wanted to touch him… the probably meant the he should take his robes off, right? He could do that. The good thing about robes was that you could easily lift them up – for a quickie behind a bookshelf in the tower library, for example – and that you could quickly pull them off. Underneath, he only wore his smallclothes and rather long socks. Usually, being naked didn’t really bother him in any way but Fenris’ stare as he watched him was so intense, it made Anders shiver. He shifted on the bed, comfortably lying down on it. He still wasn’t sure what it was that Fenris wanted to do but whatever it was, he wanted to please him, not just himself.

“So, this touching you want to do… is it inappropriate touching? I hope it’s inappropriate touching.” Anders shut up when Fenris straddled him, seating himself quite comfortably on Anders’ hips. This was not going to become a problem at all, no, never. Except if this was what Fenris wanted. Frustrating and teasing Anders until he was begging to get fucked into the mattress. He could do that, had done so often enough. Only those intense eyes made him stay still and wait. He had never felt quite so naked and that even though he still wore his smalls. And socks, can’t forget the socks.

Finally, Fenris reached out to touch him, though instead of warm hands, Anders felt the tip of metal claws drawing lines over his chest and lightly scraping against his stubble. It tickled and Anders had to keep himself from squirming. “Don’t you want to actually feel me?” He asked in a moment of boldness. Fenris’ lips quirked up, just slightly, but Anders still felt like it was a small victory. The elf looked even better when he smiled.

Slowly, teasingly, Fenris shed his gauntlets. Anders had to wait, feeling nothing but the pressure of Fenris body on his hips. He wanted to move, reach out and pull Fenris down, mesh their lips together again. He wanted them to shed all of their clothes and use this bit of time they had to thoroughly explore each other’s bodies. And oh, he wanted to touch those tattoos, follow them with his fingers, chase them with his tongue. He wanted to hear Fenris’ amazing voice when he was breathless and hoarse and he wanted to see all of that undoubtedly gorgeous body…

Fenris didn’t like being touched. Anders wouldn’t touch him unless Fenris allowed him to do so, even while he was burning up on the inside with desire.

Finally, he felt something other than metal on his skin and Anders gasped. He had not been prepared for this! The lyrium. It even ran along Fenris’ fingers, lines as thin as thread but they still buzzed with energy and grew thicker on the elf’s palms. Fenris touched his cheek, then his neck and finally he wandered down to his chest. Anders actually squirmed now, chasing the tingling sensation that those sinfully wonderful hands caused. It was just touching! He shouldn’t be getting all needy over just this! But no one he had ever been with had lyrium infused into his skin. The feeling indescribable and Anders wanted more. He could feel himself getting affected already and tried to grind against Fenris with a small whine.

“Mage.” Fenris warned.

“Sorry, I just… Andraste’s knickers, Fenris! How am I supposed to stay calm when you’re sitting on me and touching me and I can’t do anything!” He whined more, his hands grasped at the bedsheets and curled into fists.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes, Ser Obvious!”

“You were the one who wanted this. Who kept provoking me. We will play by my rules.” The situation was clear and Anders had said he was fine with everything. He was, really. He just wouldn’t have guessed that it would turn out to be so frustrating! He looked at Fenris pleadingly, not daring to even move his hands in fear of doing something he would later regret.

Femris seemed to be having fun as well, in his own way. He had a strange fixation on Anders’ body hair, rubbing over his arms, his chest and even over the line that led down, down, into his nether regions. Anders was completely hard by now, not only because of the lyrium that touched him but also because his fantasies had gotten the better of him. If only Fenris would at least strip, too.

Then, it was all forgotten when Fenris started Grinding against him. Anders let out a surprised moan that only got followed by more when Fenris activated his tattoos and started glowing. Whatever he had felt before, it was now a hundred times more intense. His hands tugged at the bedsheets, almost ripping them apart as pleasure and pure energy washed over him simultaneously. The friction was good, relieving, but the lyrium enveloped him, caressed him, a pleasant buzz, light, powerful. He threw head back and closed his eyes. Everything was blue and white.

From his time in the circle, Anders knew how to stay quiet while having sex. Here, it was getting increasingly harder and they weren’t even doing much. If Fenris ever decided to fuck him or even just enter him with those amazing glowing fingers of his, he was pretty sure nothing would be able to keep him from screaming.

Fenris’ hands kept wandering, brushing, touching, along his chest and his stomach and his sides and even if Anders wanted this sweet torture to end, he also wanted to keep going and reach even higher ecstasy. Alas, the end came sooner and more sudden that he had expected. He couldn’t even warn Fenris before he felt the pressure in his abdomen become too much. He came in his smalls with a choked gasp.

Fenris stopped what he had been doing. The glow vanished as well and Anders already missed it after less than two seconds.

“That, uh… sorry. I hadn’t thought it would actually be so… intense.” Anders laughed again but it sounded a lot more relaxed, as he tried, despite the surprise and embarrassment, to bask in his afterglow.

Just then, Fenris turned his head staring out of the window and suddenly seeming tense. His ears twitched, as if they registered a sound that was too quiet for Anders’ human ears.

“Heavy armor. More than one person. The sound is coming closer.” Suddenly, Fenris was gone from the bed and he put on his gauntlets again with practiced precision and speed. Anders grimaced at the feeling of having soiled his smalls like this, not that this was the first time such a thing had happened but that didn’t means it didn’t feel gross.

He was confused why Fenris was suddenly so on edge but it was clear that their little touching session was over for now. Just as he was putting on his robes, he heard Fenris swear in Tevene. He had not picked up much during his time in the Imperium but the swear words were always the first thing you learned. Fenris actually did swear a lot when he was angered enough.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s as I suspected. The Templars got reinforcements. And they are surrounding the tavern.”

“What?!”

“You need to flee. I will stop them.“

“WHAT?!”

Anders stared at Fenris as if he had just declared he was going to jump from a cliff. He wanted to take on all of those Templars alone? That little group he had fought had been no problem for the warrior but what if there were too many Templars this time? Had Fenris not said the tavern was surrounded?

“I can’t let you do this alone. Let me help you.”

“Help? Only one of those Templars has to silence you and you will be nothing but a burden!” Fenris sounded angry and Anders didn’t understand why that stubborn elf kept doing this. Why he kept protecting him so fiercely even while he hated mages and magic and being touched and being flirted with. How had Anders managed to fuck up so many things at once? And why was he still worthy of such loyalty and protection? He suddenly felt choked up.

“I… can’t… you’re doing this for me. I can’t let you do this for me. You already did enough, more than most other people. Where would I even go?”

Fenris was already busy, pulling the heavy chest from its place to reveal a hidden trap door. He pulled at the latch and it opened, leading down to what seemed like a secret corridor. Anders shook his head violently.

“No. You can’t make me do this. I won’t run away and abandon you like that. I will help you.”

There were voices outside. One of them was female and very familiar. Of course it was her. She had mobilized those reinforcements no doubt. Fenris glanced at the window briefly, then looked up at Anders. He was right in front of him just a moment later and pulled him down just as quickly, determinedly.

This kiss was different. I wasn’t hard and frustrated. It was soft, almost apologizing. Anders didn’t understand why they were kissing when there were Templars outside, waiting to get them. But this felt… amazing, even more than all the kisses before. There was a tenderness in Fenris, a heavily guarded one, but it was beautiful. Anders’s feelings were welling up in his chest. He wanted Fenris but he also wanted to know Fenris. Wanted to truly talk to Fenris. Understand him or at least accept him. He wanted to see more of those heavily guarded emotions and maybe… he wanted to show some of his own as well.

Just when they broke apart, Fenris lifted him up, just like that, without much effort… and let him fall into the trap door. Anders made an inhuman screeching noise as he fell into the secret corridor and he landed in a bad angle on his foot. He winced in pain. Sometimes, he could only be glad that he was a healer.

Anders looked up at the door above him. It was closed and if the noises were any indication, Fenris had just moved the chest on top of it again. Anders suddenly felt a horrible pain in his chest and a burn in his eyes. How could that moron do such a thing?! Playing the hero like this, forcing him to flee! He didn’t want to! He wanted to stay with Fenris! He didn’t want to be alone again.

But now he sat here, in the darkness. And the only way out was to see where this tunnel was leading. Perhaps… perhaps Fenris was right, he wouldn’t have been able to help much with so many Templars surrounding them. He didn’t want to die. Just… this once, he had not wanted to be selfish. He had not wanted to run.

He could only hope that he would find Fenris again. Maker knew he wanted to find him.


	3. Running is a Victory

“Your men are dead and your trap has failed.”  
  
No. This couldn’t be.  
  
“I suggest running back to your master while you can.”  
  
Anders stared. Wide-eyed and in shock. As if he was seeing a ghost. As if he was standing before the Maker himself. The slaver didn’t even know what was coming when a hand got buried in his chest and a last pitiful gurgle left his throat before he collapsed onto the dirty ground of the alienage, dead.  
  
“Fenris?”  
  
Green eyes, illuminated by moonlight and glowing lyrium finally spotted him. They widened.  
  
“Anders.”  
  
“You two know each other?”  
  
That was Hawke. He had only met her today when she had almost invaded his clinic with her companions, an apostate girl that turned out to be her sister and a dwarf who somehow knew about him despite not being a refugee or a Darktown citizen. They needed his maps of the Deep Roads for some crazy expedition. Why anyone would even want to go down there out of their own free will was beyond him. There were talking Darkspawn and broodmothers and Darkspawn grubs and none of these were friendly. He had agreed to give her the maps however because he needed help with something. Tonight. In the chantry. This had been supposed to just be a small detour, quickly resolved. Anders had reluctantly agreed to come with her, although he would much rather have waited in front of the chantry to make sure he wouldn’t miss Karl, even if this woman didn’t show up after all.  
  
And now, he was confronted with someone he had barely thought about in a while, convinced that he truly would never see him again.  
  
“Yeah, uhm, well. It’s a long story.” One Anders would definitely not tell someone he had met only a few hours before.  
  
Fenris still stared at him but then his eyes finally wandered towards Hawke and he started to explain. Danarius’ hunters were still after him? That dude needed to learn how to give up, he was almost as bad as the Templars.  
  
“I don’t appreciate being lied to.” Hakwe didn’t sound amused but it seemed like she was considering. Perhaps because Fenris was obviously an acquaintance of Anders.  
  
As it turned out, the job wasn’t done yet, however. Apparently, Danarius was staying inside a mansion in Hightown and they needed to be quick about it and catch him before he had the chance to flee. Anders flinched. Karl. In all honesty, he didn’t have time for this. But he remembered. The day he had stolen from a random mansion in Minrathous, just to be caught by a ridiculously handsome guard that had, for some reason, let him go. Finding said guard months later, covered in blood and on the brink of death. Then, after that, he had come to rescue him from the clutches of the Templars. Twice. Anders couldn’t abandon Fenris now.  
  
When Hawke turned her head into his direction, as if to seek confirmation on whether or not they should do this, Anders nodded, silently apologizing to Karl. The night still wasn’t over, so maybe they could manage both.  
  
Stairs. Anders hated stairs. He had hated them in the tower and he hated them now, in Kirkwall. The higher you climbed, the fresher the air and the nicer the houses but the people living at the top were all rotten, feasting on the labor of the poor. Stairs were such a pain in the ass to climb.  
  
As they made their way to Hightown, Anders’ eyes kept straying towards Fenris. He still looked just like he remembered him, he hadn’t even changed out of those tight leggings with matching spiky armor. Maybe that was why Danarius’ lackeys kept finding him, because he sucked at being inconspicuous.  
  
“Sooo…” He started once they had left Lowtown behind and were greeted with a smell that was almost fresh. “How have you been during the time we haven’t seen each other?”  
  
Of course Anders had questions, many questions. Where had Fenris been? What had he done? Why was he here now? How had he managed to hold up against the Templars when they had… been forced to part? He doubted that they would have time to discuss all of this now but he wanted to at least know something, anything to ease his racing mind and distract him from the fact that Karl was waiting and that he felt like he was momentarily abandoning him. Just a little more.  
  
Fenris glanced at him briefly but didn’t answer, at least not at first. When they reached the top of the stairs and found themselves at the now empty Hightown market, he took the lead and finally spoke up.  
  
“I thought your destination had been Ferelden. To find this phylactery of yours.”  
  
Anders coughed. “Ah yeah, that. I uhm… it’s a long story.”  
  
“My story isn’t any shorter.”  
  
That managed to effectively shut Anders up. He guessed it was just fair, he didn’t want to talk about his return to Ferelden and Fenris didn’t want to talk about… whatever he had been up to.  
  
Hightown was quiet at this hour but it seemed like a miracle that they managed to reach the residential area without being surprised by any criminal gang raiding the night. The estates here were as beautiful as they were expensive with exception of one strangely run down mansion almost hidden away in a corner. Fenris directed his steps towards it.  
  
“This is where your former master is staying? Are you sure?” Hawke seemed somewhat doubtful and Anders could only agree with her. The place didn’t give off a good feeling but Fenris was determined and if that Danarius guy truly was there right now, it was their only chance to get him, even Anders knew that.  
  
As it turned out, nothing but demons, corpses and an Arcane Horror awaited them when they entered the mansion. They fought their way through the kitchen, some storerooms, up to the master bedroom but found nothing. The realization seemed to hit Fenris the hardest and Anders felt bad for being glad that they didn’t have to battle a Tevinter magister this time. He knew those from his journey. He hadn’t picked a fight with any of them but he had watched a few duels. They weren’t to be taken lightly.  
  
'“Gone…” Fenris sounded so disappointed and Anders’ conscience split up into two opposing sides, battling each other. He swallowed.  
  
“Yes, so… there’s still something we need to do. Hawke promised me to go to the chantry with me tonight to meet… an old friend. So, uhm…”  
  
He looked at the elf, trying to convey the rest of his request with his eyes. Fenris didn’t have to come with them if he didn’t want to but it was urgent that they left now.  
  
To his surprise, Fenris gave a court nod and started walking, surprising Hawke as well. “We should waste no time then.”  
  
The dwarf and Hawke’s sister seemed rather amused by this sudden development. Hawke on the other hand leaned slightly towards Anders and whispered. “Is he always like that?”  
  
“Well, he was last time I saw him, yes. He’s a bit… prickly. But a good man.” Anders chuckled fondly at the memories that appeared.  
  
It was an understatement really. Fenris was not only prickly, he was the sodding spikemaster. But underneath the spikiness… incredibly intense. He remembered what little time they had spent together. How Fenris had protected him fiercely despite his hate for magic. He was an enigma, really. Anders had missed him.  
  
They left the mansion again and made their way towards the chantry. The closer Anders came, the more his thoughts shifted from Fenris to Karl. He had missed Karl, too. Oh how he longed to see him, to free him, get him away from the shackles of the circles and the abuse of the Templars.  
  
The chantry was quiet just like the rest of the city. It loomed over them eerily and Andraste watched with a silent mouth and empty eyes.  
  
Anders hoped that Karl was still here. They started their search on the lower floor, working upwards and when he saw that unmistakable form, back turned towards him, a huge weight fell off his shoulders. They were not too late, the could free Karl and  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
“Anders I know you too well. I knew you would never give up.”  
  
“What’s wrong? Why are you talking like…”  
  
Karl turned around and Anders was greeted with the perhaps ugliest brand in existence. The sun glared at him from Karl’s forehead and he stared with empty eyes. He was only a shell now. The realization crashed upon Anders like ice water. And then they were suddenly surrounded. Templars.  
  
Anders fell to his knees, a sharp pain filling his head, pushing, pressing, until it was not him who was in control anymore. He could feel the cracks, the fade oozing out and Justice, the spirit who inhabited him now, moving his body and screaming at the Templars.  
  
Anders was now merely a passenger in his own body, watching what was happening through hazy clouds, as if he were in the fade. He saw Hawke and her sister, the dwarf… and Fenris. They all fought against the waves of Templars coming for them. Coming for him. It had been a trap all along.  
  
Justice used his body like a tool, firing devastating spells and not caring about anything else. Not even the abilities the Templars had to subdue mages could match the raging spirit. It was a short fight.  
  
When it was over, Anders felt like he was drowning. Karl was back to normal because of… something. Justice? But it wouldn’t last and all he could do was give him a merciful death. He felt numb.  
  
That numbness lasted, settling on his heart like a layer of dust. When they left the chantry. When they entered Darktown. Even when they reached his clinic. He was barely aware that he wasn’t alone. They all seemed sullen but Hawke started asking him questions. He looked at Fenris instead. His eyes were hard. That was not how he had wanted him to know. He had not wanted him to know at all. About Justice, that was. It was a long story and one that someone like Fenris surely wouldn’t appreciate. He was possessed by a spirit. Many people would call someone like him an abomination, even if Justice was no demon. He was sure Fenris would.  
  
They left him, first the Hawke siblings after he had assured them that they would receive the maps as well as his assistance. He owed them that much. Then Varric, with a sympathetic nod and an invitation to come see him some time at the Hanged Man where he apparently had a room. Only Fenris stayed. He hadn’t said anything all this time, silently listening and watching, judging no doubt.  
  
Anders sat on one of his cots, trying not to let the grief get a hold of him. He should have known but he had been a fool. And now Karl had paid the price. His chest hurt but not even he could heal this pain.  
  
“Why are you still here? You look like you will reach through my chest at any moment and rip out my heart. You should get on with it.” Anders smiled mirthlessly before staring down at his knees. He couldn’t bear to look at Fenris anymore. “At least sit down. I get nervous just looking at you.”  
  
“I just thought that I shouldn’t have made you flee back then.”  
  
That caught Anders’ attention and he looked up once more, frowning. “What? Do you think this is your fault? Justice was my friend. I chose to help him and I would do it again, no matter what you think and how much you judge me for it.”  
  
“You may want to search for a mirror and look at yourself. See what has become of you. Because I can see it but you clearly can’t.”  
  
“That’s usually what happens when time goes by. Not everyone is like you and never evolves. How about you go look for a mirror and do something about that resting bitch face of yours?”  
  
Suddenly, Fenris’ lips twitched, stretching upwards to a small smile. That was not the reaction Anders had anticipated. Was Fenris mocking him? If he didn’t stop now, he would throw him out of his clinic and be done with it!  
  
“So I was right. You are still you after all. I’m glad.” Fenris’ face sobered up again. “I don’t know what to tell you regarding your friend. The mage. I’m not… good at these things so I will let you grieve in peace. But know that I will stay for a while and see if Danarius comes back to claim the mansion. If you ever have a need of me, you will find me there.”  
  
And then Fenris left Anders alone with his thoughts that were suddenly so much more jumbled up than they had been anyway. Fenris was still a mystery and while this had not cured Anders of his grief – he wasn’t sure if even time could cure it – he felt less numb now, more like a human who could still have emotions and feel them, no matter if there was a voice in the back of his head telling him to push on and think about the future, about helping mages. He couldn’t. Not now.  
  
Anders laughed and he wasn’t exactly sure why of why his cheeks suddenly felt wet.   
  


* * *

 

  
The Bone Pit. Or as Anders like to call it “Unnecessarily Unsafe Death Trap”. It was one of the few places that hired Fereldan refugees, for a meager few coins one might add. The one who ran the mine seemed like he didn’t know what safety equipment was and so, many of his patients came from there with injuries that could have been easily avoided .Then again, he worked for free and as long as the men could return to their work, it wasn’t likely that things would change. A vicious cycle, really.  
  
Today however was an especially bad day. His clinic was packed with patients, bloodied frightened men who told him about dragons that had suddenly appeared in the mine and how Hubert, their boss, didn’t believe them. Anders treated their wounds with a frown. These men wouldn’t be lying and some of them had bite marks that looked like the work of smaller dragons. If a mother had decided to claim the mine as her home, there wouldn’t be much that could be done about it. A shame, really, the survivors would live but without work, they would end up on the street or in Darktown.  
  
Anders worked himself to the bone, his mana was running low and he only had so many lyrium potions that he had been able to acquire through less than legal means. The amount of patients was barely manageable but seeing how many men worked there usually, it had to mean that many of them had died and he wanted to desperately save those that had somehow made it.  
  
It was evening, a fact that was barely noticeable in Darktown, where not much sunlight reached them anyway. It seemed like he had treated the last patient for the day. Anders exhaled slowly and let himself sink on a chair. He would get up and extinguish the lantern. In five minutes.  
  
“Anders?”  
  
Anders twitched, opening his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed that he had almost fallen asleep, wanting nothing more than to have a little break after that exhausting day. He looked up to find green eyes staring right into him. There was only person he know who was capable of doing that.  
  
“Fernis? What…”  
  
His eyes wandered down and widened when they saw what state the elf was in. He was covered in blood and holding his side. Suddenly, Anders was awake and jumping from his chair.  
  
“Andraste’s knickers, Fenris! What happened?!”  
  
He pushed his new patient onto a cot so he would stop standing there and bleeding onto his floor and inspected the wounds. As it turned out, most of the blood wasn’t actually his but he had a huge bite wound in his side. It had been patched up, with magic even, though it was clumsy and obviously left him in pain. Anders shook his head. Fenris looked like a dragon’s chewing toy. Wait…  
  
“Don’t tell me you were at the Bone Pit, too.”  
  
Fenris stared at him in surprise. “How did you know? Hawke asked me to accompany her. We slayed a dragon. Not something I ever wish to repeat.”  
  
“Someone already started healing you.”  
  
Fenris nodded. “Hawke’s sister. But she didn’t manage to heal all of my wounds. The dragon was rather fond of me.”  
  
“And Hawke?”  
  
“She is explaining the situation to the owner of the mine right now, I believe.“  
  
Anders made a thoughtful noise while trying to scrape together his last reserves and heal Fenris properly. If they had managed to slay the dragon, then that was good news. Maybe that prick Hubert would even invest in some safety gear for once though he doubted it. His hands glowed and Fenris suddenly seemed to breathe a lot easier. It made Anders wonder though. Had Fenris changed his view on magic that he would willingly come to him for healing, even after he wasn’t in too much danger anymore? Despite everything, that felt like a small victory and Anders smiled at the thought.  
  
“I had patients from the Bone Pit all day you know. It was really tiring. I hope you will be the last, I can barely keep myself on my feet.”  
  
It was true, he really was exhausted if his nap on the chair was anything to go by. Fenris gave him one of his unreadable looks while he let his wound get healed.  
  
“Did they pay you?”  
  
“What? No, of course not. Why do you want to know?”  
  
Fenris stood up and there was still no way to find out what was going on behind his way too intense eyes.  
  
“I remember that you preferred a certain kind of payment.”  
  
The next thing Anders knew was that he was pulled into a kiss. Fenris had his hand in Anders’ hair, claiming it just like he claimed his mouth. He had missed this feeling oh so much, had fantasized about it often before he had been with the Wardens. Before the thing with Justice. It still felt good, he still wanted this but at the same time, this made guilt crawl up neck like cold fingers. He wasn’t the person he used to be. He wasn’t the same Anders that had stolen from a magister in Minrathous or that had almost gotten killed by bunch of Templars in the middle of nowhere. He wasn’t just Anders anymore. Would Fenris still want him now?  
  
He pulled away and Fenris let him, silent, waiting. For an answer that was too hard to say out loud so Anders simply looked away.  
  
“I work for free. There is no need to pay me.”  
  
That had been the wrong thing to say, though it was already too late. Out of the corner of his eyes, Anders could see Fenris tensing. He couldn’t bear to try to look directly at him though.  
  
“So I was wrong after all. You’re not the Anders I once knew.”  
  
Fenris left without another word. Anders stared after him, forcing himself not to set something on fire because… Fenris was right. That was the exact thing Anders had thought as well. And yet hearing it out of his mouth, Anders felt defensive, defiant. Perhaps because it was true and it hurt.  
  
“Yeah well, and you could finally start making some sense for once!”  
  
Fenri was however already out of sight when those words left Anders. He felt tired. It wasn’t the tiredness you felt when you had a day of hard work behind you. It was the feeling that settled on your heart when things worked out exactly as you didn’t want them to. He had had enough of that feeling for a long, long time.  


* * *

  
  
Hawke returned many times, dragged him away to hunt Tal Vashoth on the Wounded Coast or return a strange amulet to the Dalish. Fenris was accompanying them often as well. Anders found out that he could speak the language of the Qunari and that he held no love for the Dalish, even if they were elves like him. Aside from that, it was always a little awkward. Fenris had stopped talking to him for the most part. He wasn’t rude, not exactly, not more than he usually was anyway, but he simply avoided him. Anders guessed he deserved that since he did the same.  
  
He wanted to talk about what had happened to him, why he had turned into… this. This fusion of man and spirit. Not an abomination but a man who finally took action like he should have done so much sooner. But didn’t. Instead, he had preferred to run and never look back. Strange, how he wanted to run now as well, even if just from this awkward situation.  
  
At some point, even Hawke seemed to get the hints and stopped taking them on the same missions. That was just as well.  
  
The day of the expedition came closer and closer. Hawke had painstakingly hoarded the money necessary to be part of this. She had even sold useless things like torn trousers and moth eaten scarves. It was a miracle that anyone even bought these. Anders was still convinced it was Hawke’s bright smile that blinded the merchants until they couldn’t refuse anymore.  
  
“You know, having a Gray Warden with us in the Deep Roads would be incredibly useful. And of course, we could always use a healer down there.”  
  
Hawke was using that horribly bright smile on him as well now. She was way too eager for this, which only proved that she had never been even near the Deep Roads before. No one should ever be excited to go down there.  
  
“Good luck with finding that Gray Warden and healer then.”  
  
“There’s one already standing right before me!”  
  
Anders sighed and continued putting new potions on his shelf. He had known that this conversation would happen sooner or later. He had simply hoped it to be later rather than sooner.  
  
“And what makes you think that I will accompany you on this crazy suicide mission? I know the Deep Roads. That’s exactly why I never want to see them again.”  
  
“Well, you could earn money, buy more supplies for your clinic from it. See it as vacation! Dark… gloomy… Darkspawn infested vacation.”  
  
Anders raised an eyebrow at her before turning towards the cots next. One by one, he took off the sheets that needed to be washed.  
  
“The way you describe it, it would be exactly like staying at home. Minus the Darkspawn. So, who else is accompanying you? Fenris? Need his tattoos to light you the way?”  
  
He tried to make it sound like a casual question, even if it wasn’t. Hawke most likely knew that, too, which was why she hesitated with her answer. Anders stripped another cot.  
  
“No. Taking everyone with me wouldn’t be wise and I already promised my sister that she would be part of this. The only other free spot is yours.”  
  
Anders sighed. He could say no. He should say no. He didn’t have a good feeling about this and Hawke had already dragged him to enough of her little adventures for him to know that it was going to end in disaster.  
  
“Fine. You win. I will accompany you. But only because I know you will all get yourself killed otherwise.”  


* * *

  
  
Anders stared at the closed door. Hawke and Varric pressed against it. Bethany tried to destroy it with a spell. It didn’t even budge. He could have said no. Should have said no. But now it was already too late and they were stuck here. Hadn’t he known before that something like this would happen?  
  
“I guess we can only go into the other direction and hope to find our way back from there.”  
  
“We could also always sit in a corner and wait for the sweet embrace of death.” Anders’ sardonic comment was met with a glare. “What? I knew why I never wanted to set even one foot into the Deep Roads ever again.”  
  
Well, to be fair, nobody would have thought that Bartrand would betray his own brother. Hawke and the others perhaps, but even Varric? He seemed to be shocked and angry about it, cursing under his breath and apologizing to his mother.  
  
With no other possibility, they entered the corridor at the other end of the idol chamber. At least it seemed like they would be able to get somewhere from here. Now if only that somewhere would lead them back to the surface.  
  
There were no Darkspawn here, only demons and strange… creatures that floated over the ground and seemed to be made of stone with a glowing core that looked like it was made of lyrium. The same lyrium that ran through the walls in branching veins like the roots of trees and grew out of the ground, forming huge crystals. Anders did his best to stay away from the raw substance. It was highly toxic to mages.  
  
After dispatching another group of the floating rock creatures, they decided to take a small break. They sat on an old flight of stairs, weathered over what had to be centuries at the very least. This was a place far beneath the Deep Roads where not even Gray Warden maps could help them find their way. Nobody knew just how old it was.  
  
“Water?”, Hawke offered, giving a tired smile. Anders nodded and accepted the water thankfully. They didn’t have many supplies left.  
  
“You know, the scariest part about this is, this isn’t even the worst trip to the Deep Roads I ever experienced.”  
  
“Really? Do tell, Blondie. Maybe it will make us feel better about our current situation.”  
  
Anders chuckled nervously. He kind of doubted that. It was probably going to make them all sick, if anything. He already felt queasy just thinking about it and he was a healer. He had seen the very worst already.  
  
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. So, does anyone know how little Darkspawn are made… ?”  
  
Half an hour later and they all looked at him like he had felt when he had seen a broodmother for the first time. The nipples still haunted his worst nightmares.  
  
“And that’s why I would rather take on an army of adult darkspawn than even one child. Those things will eat your face right off. They actually managed to nibble a bit off justice, it was disgusting.”  
  
Bethany shuddered and Hawke and Varric scrunched up their faces as if they had just eaten a whole lemon. Granted, telling disgusting stories that made everyone uncomfortable was perhaps just a bit satisfying. That's what they got for dragging him with them!  
  
“When we get out of here, I never want to see the Deep Roads again. I will go and give mother a big hug. Maybe even Gamlen, while holding my breath.”  
  
Hawke let out a bright laugh at her sister’s comment and nodded in agreement.  
  
“Don’t mind me if I join right in on that.”  
  
Anders let his gaze wander to the bottom of the stairs where a strange fog covered the floor. It was light blue and glowed softly while it wafted over the stony ground, ever changing. A face popped up in Anders’ memories. One that he had kept thinking about as soon as the first lyrium veins had snaked their way across the walls. There wasn’t even a guarantee that they would make it out alive. There never was. Another reason why he hated the Deep Roads.  
  
“I regret not having talked to him.”  
  
Three pairs of eyes were on him now and he didn’t even need to turn his head to know. There wasn’t even a reason to talk about this now. The words had slipped past his lips unchecked and Hawke, Varric and Bethany most likely knew already who he was talking about. He sighed.  
  
“I could have, I know. But I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and being convinced that he would never accept me like I am now. He even kissed me! After knowing that I’m possessed! I’m an idiot. And I don’t even know why I brought that up.”  
  
A heavy hand settled on his shoulder and when he looked up, Hawke smiled at him like a proud parent did when their child had finally understood something important.  
  
“That sounds to me like you will have someone to hug, too, once we get out of here. It’s not too late yet. Just tell him the truth. I know for a fact that Fenris keeps brooding about this as well.”  
  
That solution sounded so simple, even he should have known. Perhaps he had and had just not wanted to admit it. Either way, Anders nodded and attempted a smile that came out just slightly crooked. If only he weren’t so afraid of this.  


* * *

  
  
It was dark and the mansion was quiet but Fenris knew that someone had broken in the moment he felt the faint stir of magic. Since Hawke had left for the Deep Roads, taking both Anders and her sister with her, there was only one other possibility, even if only thinking about it made Fenris’ blood turn cold. Slave hunters.  
  
His feet made next to no sound as he approached the intruder – or intruders - easily avoiding all the places that would creak when you stepped on them. Something that would usually give away unbidden guests way earlier but he hadn’t heard a thing this time.  
  
The faint magic feeling came from the kitchen, Fenris realized. He stopped in front of the door, staring at the faint line of light peeking out from underneath the door. It reminded him of days long gone, an intruder, much like this one, breaking into Danarius’ mansion and eating cheese in the kitchen.  
  
As if. Hawke and the others had still not returned from the expedition. Fenris had started to worry. He had never been even near the Deep Roads but he hadn’t heard good things. There were Darkspawn, cave-ins, a lack of food supply and other dangerous factors. He should have gone with them. He hadn’t wanted to start making friends just to lose them again. Not to mention, Anders… they still hadn’t talked. Not after that incident in Anders’ clinic. Fenris felt like such a fool but at the very least, he wanted to be able to connect to Anders again. He was the closest he had to an “old friend”.  
  
Right now, there were more pressing matters at hand however, so Fenris gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and kicked the door open, ready to attack. Once he saw what awaited him, he froze.  
  
“Oh, hey! I didn’t hear you coming. Care to join me?”  
  
A blanket was laid out in the middle of the room. On it, there was a basket filled with bread, cheese, some dried meat and apples. Next to the basket sat Anders, cross-legged and smiling. Mage lights were dancing around him, illuminating the kitchen just like they had done years ago. Fenris frowned once he had regained his composure.  
  
“What are you doing here?”  
  
“We’re back from the Deep Roads, how nice of you to notice! I felt like I really needed a change of scenery after all that darkness and gloom. And as we all know, your house is the epitome of happiness and bright colors. So, will you sit down or not?”  
  
None of this made sense. They were back? Why hadn’t anyone told him? And why, after months of avoidance, did Anders suddenly seek him out like this? Still, he most likely wouldn’t get any answers if he didn’t play along. Fenris sat down on the farthest edge of the blanket, albeit reluctantly. He silently stared at Anders, waiting for an explanation that would hopefully come soon.  
  
“You should have something to eat. It’s not a proper picnic without it. I had a feeling that you wouldn’t have much here and I was right, so I brought some stuff.”  
  
Anders held out some bread and cheese for Fenris to take who looked first at Anders, then at the basket. In the end, he ignored the offer and took an apple instead.  
  
“You’re dancing around the subject.”  
  
Anders laughed nervously. “I am? Yeah, I… I guess so. Going back to the Deep Roads had been pretty horrible. You won’t believe what happened to us there… I’ll tell you all about it. Later. It’s just that when we were down there, I kept thinking, I want to talk to you. I want us to stop running away from each other.”  
  
Suddenly, the apple was forgotten. Anders’ hand was twitching nervously, as if he was trying to keep himself from doing something. The next thing Fenris knew, he found himself surrounded by feathers and two long arms that encircled him, a bit too tight at first but then loosening, as if Anders was afraid of hurting him as an afterthought. Slowly, carefully, as if there was a chance that he could be doing this wrong, Fenris put his hands on Anders’ back, returning the hug.  
  
“Sorry.” Anders took a shaky breath. “But I just… I missed you. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to apologize properly and explain myself but I didn’t know how. No, that’s not it, I was just afraid. I wouldn’t have been able to handle the rejection so I was the one who rejected you instead. That was stupid. And then you ignored me and I… I thought-”  
  
“Anders.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Is that why you broke into the mansion in the middle of the night and prepared all of this?”  
  
A short chuckle. It tickled in Fenris ears.  
  
“Well, I’m just that dramatic, you know me.”  
  
The embrace loosened until they could look at each other again.  
  
“So… will you listen to the story of how I became a Gray Warden and why I fused with Justice? I even brought food and everything.”  
  
What an absurd situation. Fenris couldn’t help but smile at it, despite everything. Perhaps it truly was time that they stopped running from each other.  
  
“You are an intruder but I suppose I can let you live this time.”  
  
“An intruder of your kitchen or of your heart?”  
  
“Start your story before I change my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is it. The last chapter of RBR. It took me way longer than anticipated and I'm also not satisfied at all, I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone who had hoped for a different end. orz Oh well, I'm just glad that I managed to finish this story, you know?
> 
> A big thanks to everyone who commented and gave kudos, you guys are the reason why I keep writing and (hopefully) getting better and better with my stories!


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